


A Dish Best Served Cold

by TanithPanic



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-04-25 02:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14369028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanithPanic/pseuds/TanithPanic
Summary: Victorian AU. Dylan Keogh, a disgraced doctor, now works for the rich and spoiled Dominic Copeland and his friends in the exclusive Decadence Nightclub.  But when Dominic becomes involved with Dylan's beloved adopted son, Ben, it starts a series of events that will change everybody's lives for ever.





	1. Scalpel Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is my take on an Opera but hopefully it's not too heavy and dull. Casualty characters involved.

A DISH BEST SERVED COLD  
CHAPTER ONE  
SCALPEL TONGUE

Dominic Copeland smiled as he sipped his drink. Scalpel Tongue was in fine form that night.  
Coming to the edge of the stage, and surveying his victims, Dylan Keogh, otherwise known as Scalpel Tongue, smirked at Xavier Duval.  
“Somebody here had a nasty surprise this week. An unfortunate letter from the Regulators.”  
Dylan clicked his tongue.  
“Don’t you know, friends, you should always declare expenditures? Especially when Daddy works for the government, eh?”  
Xavier glared. He’d been as discreet as he could about the letter he’d received, ordering him to declare his work expenses. Xavier had been taking a little license with the rules, and claiming more than the actual hotel stay and transport had cost him. Enough to buy… he sincerely hoped that Scalpel Tongue wouldn’t elaborate.  
“Still, I hope the young lady who performed those exotic dances in the privacy of your room was worth every penny, my friend!”  
Dylan always referred to the audience as his friends, even when he was mercilessly tearing their private lives to pieces.  
“Oh, and here’s somebody back from their holiday! A holiday of, what, nine months or so?”  
Dylan’s gaze raked over Alicia Munroe, whose colour drained a little.  
“Most people come back from a holiday with excess weight, but a certain clever young lady has come back minus seven pounds! That seven pounds is now being looked after by a childless couple who will no doubt treat it better than… well, let’s not embarrass anybody. Let’s just say that, as usual, money changed hands.”  
Don’t get up and leave, Alicia told herself, if you go now you’ll prove him right. You had to have that baby away from the Capital, where people could ask questions. It was true; she’d been stupid and knew that society would ostracise her for becoming pregnant. Her father had beaten her when he’d learned of her plight. Then he’d told her he would take care of things but that she had to leave the city for a few months. It had all been arranged discreetly, but somehow Scalpel Tongue had found out.

Dominic Copeland leaned back on the couch, enjoying the performance. Keogh’s mean tongue always meant that Desire, this private establishment, was always full, and that the money and drink kept on flowing until at last his ‘guests’ would totter uncertainly in search of Hansom cabs. Any other man would have been assaulted in the street, his nose likely slit, or even found in the river. But nobody crossed anybody who was favoured by Dominic Copeland. Dominic was too rich and handsome to have to answer to anybody. He was the pampered darling of the dark underside of the city. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. Who in hell had let Jeffrey Collier in? He continued to stare arrogantly at Collier, until, without warning, the man had spat in his face.  
“You filthy b*st*rd! You corrupted my friend’s son and used him, then you abandoned him. Now he’s making a living hanging around the River area, selling himself to gentlemen perverts for a pittance!”  
Some of Dom’s entourage remembered Jamie. A handsome lad, but a naïve one. Dom had adored the boy at first, then had tired of him and Jamie had been replaced. I gave him money, Dom thought indignantly, I made sure he was provided for. If he was such an idiot as to squander that money, there was no blame attached to me.  
Dom wiped his face with an almost graceful gesture, then lay back on his cushions, sipping slowly.  
“Unwise, Mr Collier. I believe you have a nice little position in a legal company. Well… you did. From Monday, you will no longer be employed. But please don’t fret about it. You can always claim Poor Relief if you make your claim convincing enough.”  
Jeffrey paled.  
“Please, Mr Copeland, I need that work.”  
“You didn’t need it enough to keep quiet just now, did you?”  
“Thank you, Dylan” Dom said ironically, “I have this situation under control.”  
Two heavily-built men were escorting Collier off the premises, and were not being gentle about it. On passing Dylan, Jeff sneered:  
“You’re laughing now, Scalpel Tongue, you vicious piece of dirt. But one day your crimes will catch up with you. You’ll be in despair, wondering how you sank so low.”  
“I don’t commit crimes, I expose the crimes of others” Dylan almost sniggered. Jeff was dragged out.

As he finally removed the stage make-up, two hours later, Dylan looked forward to the cool night air and to his home. Then he could throw off the hideous persona he’d created until the next miserable evening. Oh, Ben, he thought, if you could see and hear me when I’m in this pit of snakes, bitching about people’s weak spots to make others laugh.

No, he told himself sharply, Ben’s untouched by all this filth and hypocrisy. My adopted son thinks I’m a kind, caring man. He has to stay uninformed. I send him to the University every day in a private carriage. He’s brought home the same way in the evening. He knows nothing of Scalpel Tongue and this hellhole.

“It was a good entertainment tonight” Sacha Levy grinned.  
“Oh, Scalpel Tongue’s always good for a bit of scandal and venom” Ollie Valentine grinned, adding, touching the side of his nose mysteriously, “But he’ll be the one weeping and groveling soon.”  
“How do you propose to make that happen?” Max Walker slurred.  
“I’ve found out something by keeping my nose to the ground and my mouth shut. Scalpel Tongue’s only got himself a fancy boy to play with.”  
“You’re crazy” Max snapped, “He’s above that kind of thing.”  
“I’m telling you! You know Essie, the woman who cleans the house for him?”  
“That blonde twit? I do.”  
“Well, she reckons he’s keeping a young man. She’s seen him in the house.”  
“Who’d have thought it?” Max spluttered.  
Ollie nudged Max, none too gently.  
“Well, tomorrow, a couple of friends and myself are going to pay him a little visit. And we’re going to kidnap Pretty Boy, stuff him in a sack or something, and deliver him whole to Dom!”  
“I love it!”  
“Be ready at the Iron Bridge at seven tomorrow evening, then. And buy a mask. We’re all going to wear masks.”  
Max felt a little pang of remorse. He knew the public humiliation after their little mock-abduction might mean the end of Scalpel Tongue’s career. But… it would be good to see that man brought down a peg or ten.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan receives an offer from a member of a dangerous family and Dom shows that he's not entirely heartless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely Kudos and comments.

CHAPTER TWO

 

At last Dylan’s time at Desire came to an end, he breathed a sigh of relief. Soon he could get away from this hellhole and be with Ben. He thought how shocked his son would feel if he knew what his father did for a living. There’d be no sympathy or understanding this time. He remembered Ben’s reaction to his losing his cherished position as a surgeon in the exclusive area of the City; the one away from expensive and sleazy private clubs. Where he’d been respected and only feared by those of his colleagues who were idle or not as committed as he’d wanted them to be. Before that operation where he’d let his mind wander for a split second and a woman had died. When Dylan had come home, pale and exhausted, and had told Ben that there would be no more expensive clothes or holidays at the coast, Ben had shrugged.  
“I don’t care about those. I care about you, Dad. You look devastated.”  
And it was Ben who’d hugged and soothed him, Ben who told him he mustn’t give up; that one day there’d be work for him again.  
Oh, there was work. After trying everything else and being rejected, Dylan had ended up being one of Dominic Copeland’s satellites. He’d not told Ben the nature of his job, just that he had one ‘helping the public.’ And Ben, bless his big, generous heart, had just said:  
“But you’re happy?”  
Dylan had bitten his tongue and told the lie.  
“Yes, Ben. And we can start to make this place a decent home.”

Dylan’s musings had taken him almost to the Iron Bridge. He could see a young man lurking and hoped there wouldn’t be trouble. He intended to walk straight past the stranger, but the young man accosted him with his hand on his arm.  
“Please let me pass. I have no money to give you.”  
The young man, dark-haired, tall and slim, with intense brown eyes, smiled disarmingly.  
“It’s what I can do for you.”  
“Listen, my friend, I don’t judge, but I’m not of your inclination-“  
A cold smile, almost a sneer.  
He passed Dylan a card with a single address on it.  
“Number four, Sparafucile Lodge. You’ll find my father there if you ever need him. His name’s Archie Grayling.”  
Dylan, wondering if he’d walked into the Variety Theatre in error and was in some surreal comedy, laughed shortly:  
“And what does the amazing Archie Grayling do?”  
“Mr Keogh-“  
“DOCTOR Keogh. I still choose to carry the title, even though I’ve performed no surgery for years.”  
“Doctor, your act has upset a lot of people. You’ve made enemies. Just in case there’s anybody you’d like to…. Disappear, just go to the address and seek my father.”  
Dylan had heard of these ‘arrangements’ but had never thought one would be offered to him. He would look back on this day and curse that he didn’t inform the police. Maybe because the police turned a blind eye to reports from the public if their palms were greased enough.  
“You young idiot- just get out of my sight and don’t ever let me see your face again, you understand?”  
Young Grayling looked at him for a full second, then shrugged and ran away. So the City had come to this, thought Dylan, hired assassins, Anything could be bought by money.  
He hurried away from the area, and, in his speed, forgot to throw the offending card in the river. Instead he stuffed it into his pocket absent-mindedly.

He didn’t lessen his pace until he reached the quiet house overlooking the pretty garden. This was the area of the city he loved. It might have been called Poor City by the residents, but it felt much healthier than any of the opulent houses and elaborate gardens over in Rich City. This was home and Ben was there. Even as he turned the corner and walked though the gate, Ben was running down the path and clasping him in a bear hug.

“Dad! How has the work been tonight?”  
“Good, Ben. I think I’ve made a couple of people resolve to change their lives.”  
“Ah, that’s excellent. You do so much good for people!”  
Dylan felt slightly irritated with Ben, which was unfair because his irritation came from his own embarrassment. He knew that Ben would be heartbroken on learning what his father really did for a living. Well, he would make sure that Ben never found out.  
“Come and sit down, Dad! Essie has the meal almost ready for you and I’ve got things I want to ask.”  
“Just… let’s discuss you, Ben. How’s everything progressing at University?”  
Ben’s smile faltered tor the fraction of a second, then he grinned.  
“It went well, Dad. I … er… was wondering?”  
“Yes?”  
“One of my classmates has a birthday next week. There’ll be a party in the City after study’s finished. Could I-“  
“Ben, I don’t want you going near the City. There’s corruption round every corner.”  
“But Damon’s father will be making sure everybody is sent home in a Hansom cab. And the inn where the party will be held is clean, and-“  
Dylan held up a hand.  
“Not this time, Ben.”  
He peered at his adopted son anxiously.  
“You’ve always come straight home after study, haven’t you, Ben? Essie hasn’t been lying to me? Apart from that day your driver didn’t turn up to take you home?”  
Ben’s eyes were open and honest.  
“I told you what happened that evening, Dad. One of my classmates sent out for a new driver for me. I was only fifteen minutes late, wasn’t I?”  
“You were, Ben. But I can’t stress this on you enough; you go straight to your studies and come straight home again. Don’t go anywhere near the City and its stinking heart.”  
He took his son’s hands.  
“Ben, I love you, and when you have your degree, I’ll take you away to Europe. You’ll see everything; the Coliseum, the Acropolis… just be patient and wait, please?”  
Ben Chiltern-Keogh wanted to tell his father that it was unfair. That he wanted to go to Raf’s party and enjoy himself like a normal student. But he knew that, wrong or right, his father was trying to give him the kind of career that he himself would have had if one tragic mistake hadn’t lost him everything.  
He bit his lip, and grinned.  
“Very well, Dad. I’d probably make a fool of myself at a party like that anyway.”  
“You’d have more sense than the others. But let’s close the subject now.”  
Ben nodded once more. Feeling shame for what he was withholding from Dylan.

It had been a short incident, but Ben would always remember it. His driver had been delayed by at least half an hour one day last week and he had known how his father would quiz both himself and Essie about the time he’d returned home, and would be angry if Ben admitted he’d been delayed. He’d paced around the foyer, wondering whether to risk an argument with his Dad by walking home, or to wait a little longer.  
A handsome young man with short-cropped hair, huge brown eyes and an engaging smile had appeared beside him.  
“Your driver hasn’t come for you?”  
“He hasn’t, no.”  
“Where do you live?”  
Ben told him, and the young man’s eyebrows raised slightly.  
“You live there, yet your father can afford to send you here?”  
“He’s given up a lot for my education.”  
“That’s fine; no more inquisition for you. I’ll contact my valet and he’ll arrange for us both to be taken home safely.”   
“Contact-?”  
The young man smiled proudly.  
“We have one of those speaking tubes at home. Like the one in the Main Office.”  
“Goodness” Ben had joked, “You’re practically a millionaire!”  
The young man seemed to regret his boasting and was quiet for a while. Then he held out his hand for Ben to shake.  
“You can call me Darren” he said. Ben would wonder about that in the days to come. Not “My name’s Darren”, but “You can call me Darren.”  
“Ben.”  
“Good to meet you, Ben.”

He’d asked the driver to stop a little way from his home, just in case. Darren’s eyebrows had lifted but he’d said nothing.  
“I’ve enjoyed meeting you today, Ben. Raf Di Luca is having a birthday party soon. I’d like you to be there.”  
“It may be difficult, but I’ll try.”

Since then, Ben had thought of nothing else but Darren. He’ll probably forget about me as soon as he’s back in the City, he thought. Yet Ben knew he would never forget Darren.

Dominic Copeland, alias Darren, had gone to his own home full of elation. He wanted to get to know Ben Chiltern-Keogh better. There was something about the man’s innocence that was endearing, but at the same time Dom knew by instinct that Ben was of the same persuasion as himself. So Dom had spent money and lined the pockets of those of his cronies who could tell him exactly where Ben lived.


	3. A tangled web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This explains Dylan's secrecy and possessiveness with Ben, but Dylan's careful plans may have come fo nothing. A little violence, and an abduction scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the previous errors. The private club is now called Decadence. I hope people are still enjoying this story.

CHAPTER THREE

“Essie, I feel like a Judas” Ben told Essie, who had been officially hired as a cleaning woman by Dylan, but whose main task was to help bring up the boy. She often felt that her main function was to check that Ben didn’t go out at night, and that nobody came in.  
Essie had only protested about her position once:  
“Doctor Keogh, Ben’s a good lad. He’ll know not to go drinking till he passes out in some dive filled with students who want to squander their parents’ allowance-“  
Dylan had cut her off sharply.  
“There are plenty of positions for cleaning women that don’t pay as well as this one does. All I ask is that you make sure Ben keeps to my rules.”  
Essie had blushed and never pursued the subject to Dylan again. Now she smiled at Ben.  
“It was only a matter of time before you met somebody, sweetheart. It’s not natural for you to be cooped up like a monk.”  
“One thing I don’t understand” Ben said, “Is that he knows I think I might be homosexual. He accepted that it might be a man I’d want. And he didn’t condemn me when I told him. He just said there’d be young men my age when we finally leave here.”

Dylan could have told him why. The reason was twofold. He didn’t want Ben becoming mixed up with any of Dominic Copeland’s set. But more than that, he never wanted Ben to find out about Scalpel Tongue.

It was the circumstances of Ben’s birth that made Dylan determined to keep his son untouched, as he put it. Dylan had told Ben that his mother had been pretty and that she’d died giving birth to him. What he never told Ben was that he’d rescued Rachel from a vicious kicking on a street corner, where she’d been soliciting. In his former career as a doctor, Dylan had been approached by women, some from the upper classes, who were desperate for a way of ending their pregnancies. Their reasons had often been because they despaired of being able to feed the child in their womb, or with the richer women, the fear that the child would restrict their social lives. Dylan had given them the same answer:  
“I’ll help you give birth to your child; I’ll give you any advice you need on how to bring it up. But unless you wish to keep it, turn round and leave this surgery now. Otherwise I’ll inform the police you were planning to kill your baby.”  
So it was almost a breath of fresh air when Rachel had moaned:  
“Just save my baby. Please.”  
Rachel might have been what was termed a common prostitute but she’d shown more love for her child in the few hours that she’d managed to live after his birth, than the upper class women, or those worn out by large families, had done their entire lives.

Rachel Chiltern had given birth to her son and had gasped through dry lips:  
“Benjamin. I want him to be Benjamin.”  
Seconds later, she’d fallen back on the pillows and died.  
Despite his being single, with a full-time career, Dylan had spoken to the authorities, greased a few palms and Ben had a bogus birth certificate that showed “Rachel Chiltern-Keogh” as his mother and Dylan Keogh as his father. Laws could be circumvented in The City if the money was enough. Ben had not only believed that Dylan was his real father, but had loved him unquestioningly.

“And now I’ve lied to him” he sighed to Essie.  
“But, sweetheart, he keeps you cooped up here… the only freedom you get is when you go to your studies. Nobody could blame you for a little rebellion. Did you like the man you met?”  
“Yes, I did” Ben answered honestly.  
Essie almost smirked. Ben raised his eyebrows questioningly. Then he heard the knocking at the door. Nobody called at night.”  
“I’ll go and answer that” Essie offered. Moments later, Ben heard the footsteps and looked up quizzically.  
His heart began to pound.  
“D-Darren? How did you find me? My father will be angry-“  
“I’ve told him your father won’t be back till late”, Essie grinned, and went to preoccupy himself with cleaning.  
“So you’re Ben, am I right? Dylan Keogh’s son?”  
Ben smiled and nodded.  
“And your father’s working tonight?”  
“He is. I don’t quite know what he does but he’s told me he goes to help people.”  
“One way of putting it” Dom said. He wondered what Ben would say when he told him the truth about his precious father.  
And knew he couldn’t tell him. It would be like kicking a puppy. He decided there were far more important things to tell Ben.  
“I want you to know I’ve thought about you ever since we met that day when your driver let you down.”  
“And I’ve thought about you” Ben admitted, then sighed.  
“You do need to go now, Darren. I don’t want my father to get the police to you.”  
“He’d do that?”  
“He thinks The City’s corrupted.”  
Dom choked back a laugh, and instead, took Ben in his arms and kissed him.

Meanwhile, over at the Iron Bridge, in a run-down inn, Max and his cronies continued to plot.  
“We should go and grab the stupid b*gger now. We shouldn’t wait till the last minute. I’ve heard Scalpel Tongue carries a cane and he he’s vicious with it.”  
“Nooooo!” Max protested, “Almost being caught’s part of the fun. And Ollie’s just thought of a really clever bit. Morven, Zosia… do you want to earn a little extra spending money tonight?”  
“What do we have to do?”  
“We’d like you two to keep Scalpel Tongue talking. Tell him you’re his biggest admirers. Lay it on thick. When you hear an owl hooting, you can put the man out of his misery and tell him you have to go.”  
“But how will you get an owl to…oh!”  
Zosia began to giggle at her stupidity as Ollie imitated an owl.  
“Isn’t the sentence for kidnapping at least five years in prison, though, Max?” Morven asked.  
“For the poor slobs in Poor City, yes. For us… Dominic Copeland’s set… no.”  
Zosia had another concern.  
“There are a lot of thieves around, though, Max. Some of them have knives.”  
“There’ll be ten of us, Zosh. There’d have been eleven if we’d have persuaded Raf to join us but he’s a bit prissy about annoying the law. But he won’t tell. He’s solid. Now, let’s check we have everything we need…”

“I think I’m in love with you” Ben said quietly but clearly enough.  
“I love you too, Benjie. May I come and see you again when your father’s away working?”  
Ben made a decision.  
“No… come to supper tomorrow night. I’ll give you the details at study tomorrow. It’s about time I was honest with Dad. I’ll introduce you to him.”  
Dom kissed Ben again, his fingers twining through Ben’s dark curls.  
“Your hair… beautiful. You’re like a gypsy, Ben, do you know?”  
Ben’s eyebrows rose but he smiled.  
“Darren… thank you for not making me…”  
Dom stroked Ben’s cheek.  
“That will come later, sweetheart. We’ll have a lifetime for loving. I’ll look for you tomorrow. Night, darling.”  
“Goodnight, love.”

Within seconds, Dom was hurrying through the garden, climbing the wall and dropping down silently as a cat at the other end, he ran over to where his carriage driver had been told to wait.

“It’s Scalpel Tongue! Morven, I declare, it’s Scalpel Tongue!”  
“Oh, Sir, we must speak to you! We love your performances at Decadence. Why, I was almost swooning with laughter the other night!”  
“What on earth are you silly creatures doing out alone? The city’s that way. This is Poor City, where fools like you are eaten alive.”  
He made to sidestep Zosia but Morven had skipped into his way, her hand clasped to her heart.  
“Oh, how my heart’s pounding. Meeting you tonight, how glorious!”  
“I can’t say I can return the compliment. Now will you silly little tarts stop impeding me and let me go home?”  
“Just one autograph for our albums here! Oh, my hand’s shaking too much to find my pen!”  
“Better leave it then, hadn’t you? Now, listen – if you two don’t leave me alone in two seconds I shall be calling for the police. Then your fathers will be coming to haul you home, and with any luck he’ll beat sense into your backsides with a slipper!”  
Neither Morven nor Zosia budged, but their hearts were pounding unpleasantly now. Neither of their fathers would have struck them but they had no qualms about stopping allowances.  
Then came the low hooting. Morven and Zosia clutched each other, squeaking.  
“Oh, the humiliation of being spanked! We’d better go! Come, Morven!”  
And without another look at the man they’d sworn they idolized, they were gone.

Essie curled on the floor of the kitchen, sobbing and holding her head.  
“Jacob, you cretin, why did you have to hit her? You could have been facing the hangman if you’d brained her!”   
Max was furious. The whole thing had almost gone beautifully. The girls had delayed Scalpel Tongue, giving them time to get through the door that Ben had innocently opened. Ben Chiltern-Keogh, Scalpel Tongue’s fancy-piece, was now glaring at them from where he sat, bound, gagged, and stripped naked, on the floor.  
“Let’s get on!”  
He glared at Essie.  
“Not a word out of you or I’ll let Jacob hit you again. Bring the sack.”  
Ben was pushed into the sack, and despite his pleas to let him have some air, was being rushed into a Hansom cab with darkened windows.  
“Not long to struggle, pretty boy. Just a little ride away” Ollie almost purred. The cab moved off, with the conspirators running behind it, just as Dylan was storming into the house.  
“Essie! Why in hell is the door- Essie, what in hell happened and where’s my son?”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben learns painful home truths about Dylan but also learns how good love can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody for the Kudos and reviews

CHAPTER FOUR

Ben felt nauseous as he was flung on to the carpet and the sack opened, but Max led him to a window, where Ben gulped in the fresh air and the feeling passed.  
“Fetch him a robe.”  
Morven went to carry out Max’s order and Ben felt a little less threatened. He was still furious at what had happened and rage made him more courageous than he normally would have been in such strange circumstances.  
“Why have you done this?”  
“Because we wanted to teach Scalpel Tongue a lesson and we thought we’d bring his fancy piece to Dom as a present.”  
Often, with their wilder pranks, Max found it was best to confess them just as they were, rather than find petty excuses.  
“Who the hell is Scalpel Tongue?”  
“You should know, sweetie. You live with him!”  
Ben glared at Ollie.  
“My father? You’re telling my father, Dr Keogh, is known as Scalpel Tongue? Why?”  
But Ollie’s colour had drained, as had the complexions of everybody in the room at that moment. Morven, returning with the bathrobe, almost dropped it.  
“You’re his son? Not his lover?”  
“Adopted son. And I’d like to go home to my father now, please. I have a few questions to ask him. As I have questions to ask of you.”

 

Ben’s head swum. His father, it seemed, appeared in a notorious underground establishment, tearing members of the public apart for some vile form of entertainment. And Scalpel Tongue was paid for his entertainment by Dominic Copeland. The man I loved at first sight, thought Ben. Everything that I thought safe and decent; my home, my education… the man I thought my father to be… it’s all slipping away from me. And now Dominic. Just a few hours ago Ben had been euphoric. Now he was broken. Then he remembered Essie and more pain flooded him.  
“You attacked the woman who worked for my father.”  
Jacob looked shamefaced.  
“She was whining and about to start screaming. I had to shut her up. I just lashed out and whacked her over the head with my cane.”  
“It did shut the silly cow up though” Max sniggered, hardly hearing the door open behind them all.  
“Max” Dominic said coldly, “You’re out.”  
Max went pale.  
“Please, Dom…”  
“Pack your things. You’re no longer a guest of mine; you’re no longer welcome at Decadence. Hurry or I’ll get one of the others to pack for you and they might just break some favourite little treasures.”  
Max, almost in tears, left the room.  
“The rest of you, get the hell out of here and don’t come back until I ask for you.”  
The others didn’t stay to quibble but hurried out of the room. They needed to keep a low profile for a few days, if they wanted to be part of Dom’s ‘set’ again.

Dom shut the door. Ben glared at him.  
“How could you order something like this?”  
“But I didn’t” Dom replied earnestly, “I swear, Ben, that when I was speaking to you last night, I had no idea what their stupid plans would be. If I’d known I would have called the police. And I apologise from the bottom of my heart for the degradation and fear you must have been put through.  
“I was only afraid at first; then I was angry. I can see now that you weren’t responsible for my abduction.”  
Dom sighed in relief.  
“But how can I forgive you for what you pay my father-“ suddenly the word felt unpleasant in Ben’s mouth, and he swallowed quickly, knowing otherwise he would have spat in revulsion.  
“Ben, it was my father who paid for your father’s entertainment services. Your father was a lot younger then, but was a desperate man. He’d been struck off the medical register and knew he would never work as a surgeon again. My father spoke with him and was amused by some of his ironic observations. Slowly, an idea came together. What your father does may sound heartless, but there were several people who needed to know home-truths about themselves. There still are people who need to know it. The people who walk on the other side of the road rather than help a starving beggar but then go and stuff themselves with a six-course dinner. The woman who plays the great lady in the house by day, and, forgive my bluntness, plays the slut with her coachman at night.”  
Ben winced. He’d always respected women despite not being attracted to them physically.  
“And you really believe this public abuse of those who make mistakes is a gift to society, Dominic?”  
Dom laughed but it was a bitter laugh.  
“In the seventeenth century there was a playwright in France, called Moliere, who ridiculed humanity’s flaws and made a success of it. True, he didn’t attack people directly by name – in those times he’d have been hanged for that – but he attacked a cross-section of society.”  
Ben wanted to weep. He’d been led to believe that his father helped society – his father had told Ben so himself – but Ben had never realised what a brutal form the lessons took.  
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive him” Ben said, genuine sorrow in his voice.  
Dom looked at him, earnestly, his heart pounding.  
“But can you forgive me, Ben?”  
Ben wanted to say no. But he’d have been lying. He knew that he not only forgave Dominic Copeland entirely, but that he would die for him.

“Ben, are you all right? Really all right?”  
“Of course.”  
“If I’d known you’d never… loved a man before, I’d have given you more time.”  
Ben stroked Dom’s hair.  
“I didn’t need more time. My future’s uncertain now… I don’t know how I feel about my father any more, but I do know that I love you.”  
Dom smiled, and buried his face in Ben’s curly tangle of hair.  
The voice came without warning.  
“GET out of that bed, and get yourself home, Benjamin.”  
Ben sat up and looked into the furious face opposite him.  
“Dad… we do need to talk. But I’m not leaving here. I received a severe shock earlier… about what you do when you’re out at night. And I know I deceived you.”  
“Any caring father would drag you home and thrash you within an inch of your life, Benjamin. Dress at once. We’re leaving immediately.”  
Ben glared at his father, wondering how things could have come to this.  
“I want to stay with Dominic.”  
Dylan strode over to the bed.  
“Dress now.”  
Dom suddenly picked up Ben’s hand and kissed it.  
“Go home with him, Ben. You need to talk to him. I’ve done some ugly things in my life but I won’t break up a family. Mr Keogh?”  
“DOCTOR Keogh!”  
“If that’s how you wish to be addressed, Doctor, so be it. Doctor Keogh, I’m not going to fight you. I want you to make it up with Ben, but you should also know that we love each other and you’ll not keep us apart. Keep him away from me for a week, a month, a year… I’ll still wait for him.”  
Dylan dropped what he hoped was his bombshell.  
“You do know he’s had a different man every night, don’t you, Ben?”  
Ben shrugged.  
“He could well have changed since we met, Dad. I choose to believe he won’t go back to that life. I will come home, but, make no mistake. Tomorrow evening I’ll come here to see Dominic. No more house prisoner, no more curfews.”  
He kissed Dom tenderly.  
“Ten minutes, Benjamin! Ten minutes to dress and join me downstairs” Dylan all but snarled at his son.  
“Fine. Ten minutes” Ben replied evenly.

“He’ll not hit me now, Dom. If he’d been going to do that he’d have done it by now. I’ll leave with him as long as I know I’m welcome back here tomorrow.”  
“You’re welcome for ever, love.”

That evening was the most painful one that Ben had ever been through. Dylan had ordered Essie to go out and get brandy – he completely ignored her plea that she was afraid to go out alone now – and became steadily more intoxicated and bitter while Ben tried to reason with him. Finally Ben took himself off to bed where he lay, his mood dipping and swinging between the ecstasy of first love and the horror of the person his father had become.

The next day when Ben’s hansom arrived to take him to study, Dylan had whispered brokenly:  
“Please come home tonight, Ben. Don’t leave me alone.”  
And Ben put his feelings and his pity for Dylan first.  
While Dominic spent a lonely night waiting for the man he’d come to love to return.  
And knew that, if Ben didn’t return the next day, he, Dominic would need other company.


	5. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's illusions are shattered and Dylan makes a horrific deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody for the comments and Kudos. They mean a lot.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Dad, we have to talk about this.”  
“What is there to say, Benjamin? You undermined my authority by choosing that pampered lecher over me-“  
“-Please don’t insult Dom like that. He’s been looking for the right man. He won’t deceive me.”  
“You trusting young fool.” Dylan’s voice was low but hurtful and he continued:  
“Don’t forget that I’ve been in his company for a long while, Benjamin. Seen different men walking into Decadence on his arm. If you truly believe that he’s fallen in love with you, then you’re a moron and the money I’ve spent on your education’s been sadly wasted.”  
“Father, listen. I know I’ve hurt your feelings by choosing to keep seeing him but sooner or later I would have found somebody. Maybe it would have been a girl, maybe I’d have acted out a lie to make me more acceptable when I tried for jobs after I’d completed my studies. Or maybe I’d have been true to myself and found another man. But it would have happened. Despite your almost keeping me confined to the house, it would have happened.”  
“It would have. And if it had been any other man but him I would have been annoyed because you’d broken your curfew. But, for as long as I can remember, Dominic Copeland has been a cold-hearted flirt, sleeping with a different man each night.”  
“I’m not going to convince you, am I, Dad?”  
Ben looked distraught. Dylan put his head in his hands, sighed deeply, then looked Ben in the eye.  
“All right, Benjamin. I understand that you truly believe Dominic has changed. So, let’s see. Do you have the guts to go back to Decadence with me tonight? Because of my capacity as Scalpel Tongue, I know a secret vantage point overlooking the room Copeland uses for his dalliances. If we go back there tonight, and take a look, and we find the room unoccupied, or Dominic there alone for at least an hour, I swear to you that I’ll place no more restrictions on your freedom. You may still live here and see Dominic as often as it pleases you.”  
Ben nodded confidently.  
“I gladly accept.”  
“Wait, Benjamin. If we find that Dominic is still seeing other young men, you’ll return home with me. I’ll have you escorted to and from your studies; you’ll come straight back at night. We’ll be as we were before this incident.”  
Except, thought Ben, his heart heavy for a moment, that now I know what you do at Decadence. How you ridicule people.  
But Dylan’s offer was a generous one, Ben felt, and he himself believed in Dom’s new fidelity.  
He smiled and held out his hand. Dylan shook it.  
“I’ll almost be glad to lose this wager, Ben.”  
“Thank you.”

While Ben looked forward to going back to Dominic that night, the latter was feeling unhappy. He’d convinced himself that Ben Chiltern-Keogh wouldn’t return; that he’d be kept at home for the next month at least. Dom had always been afraid to sleep alone. As a child, he’d had a nurse who’d told him a terrifying selection of cautionary tales, all ending with the protagonists – always small children – meeting a grisly death as a punishment for their pride, their greed, or their disobedience. Dom had awoken every morning, shaking and weeping, for years. A puppy had helped him sleep more calmly, then the nurse had decided an animal in bed was against all the rules of hygiene, and the puppy had been sent to sleep in the kitchen. Somehow Dom had survived through those nights. But as soon as he was old enough to be in charge of his own destiny, he would refuse to sleep during the night. He would go to other establishments like Decadence, where he slept through till early afternoon with a new young man in his arms every time. Dom had been ridiculed by one of his lovers for his night fears, and from then on had paid for casual companionships.

Now, he lay there petulantly wondering whether to sleep till early evening or to get up and face the day. Was Ben really not coming back? Dominic had never felt so safe or relaxed as that night in Ben’s arms, when he’d been lulled into a peaceful sleep by Ben’s heartbeats.  
A tap at the door.  
“Come in” Dom grumbled.  
Ollie stood there.  
“Dom, I’ve found a new friend for you. He’s not Keogh’s son, but he’s a pleasant and handsome enough young man. He’d like to please you tonight in the special room in Decadence. What shall I tell him?”  
Dom sighed. Nearly three in the afternoon and no sign from Ben. He couldn’t go on like this.  
“Oh…. Tell him he may come tonight. At nine. What’s his name anyway and where does he live?”  
“He says his father works somewhere in the city, and his name’s Sebastian Grayling.”  
“Yes. Send him to me. Now get out. I wish to dress and eat.”

Ben and Dylan entered Decadence by the private door reserved for the club’s patrons, and Dylan quietly led Ben up a flight of stairs and into a sparsely furnished room, with a table and couch. He ordered two brandies from the servant who’d shown him to the room.  
“Not brandy, Dad – too strong.”  
“You’ll need it. Haven’t you been whining for the last hour about how you’re a traitor to Dominic? Pull yourself together, Ben. We’ll wait till the drinks arrive, then we’ll see what your protector – “ Dylan spat the word out nastily - “is up to.”  
The minutes that passed before the servant brought the drinks seemed like hours to Ben.

“Sebastian, thank you.”  
“For what, Mr Copeland?”  
“Mr Copeland, after what we’ve been through? I’m Dominic. I’m thanking you for helping me to forget somebody who’d rather keep his darling Papa happy than care whether I’m all right or not.”  
Sebastian declined to answer. He knew all about what fathers could do if sons rebelled. He had the bruises from the times he’d begged his father not to go through with a murder. Nightmares about the pair of them being hanged together. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, if Dominic likes me he might let me live here and I’ll be safe from my father.  
“I’m glad I helped you, Dominic. I like you… very, very much.”

Ben drained his brandy. His eyes were shining with a new intensity.  
“Time to find out” he said calmly and clearly. Praying with all his heart that Dominic would be alone, or at least, out.

Dylan led Ben to a couch beneath a bookshelf. He quietly moved three of the books to the floor, and then moved the secret panel in the shelf to one side.  
“Look, and listen.”

Dylan wanted to lose this wager. He hoped desperately that Copeland had turned over a new leaf and would stand by Ben.  
Ben watched, listened… and stifled a low moan of agony.  
Dominic and a young stranger were entwined on the bed in the room that he could now see into.  
“Am I better than Daddy’s Boy?” Sebastian asked with a hint of flirtatiousness in his tone.  
“You certainly will be if you stay faithful to me and don’t disappear like he chose to.”  
Ben dropped the glass. The brandy seeped into the carpet like lifeblood from a wound.  
“No! Dear God, no!”  
He turned, ashen-faced to his father.  
“Get me to a privy – quickly.”  
Dylan waited till Ben’s bout of nausea passed, then washed Ben’s face as if he were a child again.  
“We’ll go home. Come, Ben.”  
Ben allowed his father to lead him quietly down the back stairs and into the night.  
Dylan hailed a hansom cab and Ben allowed himself the luxury of letting his tears fall under the cover of the darkness. 

Dylan made sure that Ben was sleeping and told Essie that he would be going out again.  
“Check on Benjamin. He’s ill.”  
Essie nodded.

As Ben grieved, wondering who had hurt him the most, Dominic or his father, Dylan walked briskly through the streets until he came to the beginning of Poor City. He found the building that he’d remembered all this time and knocked at the door.  
A large taciturn man gaped at him.  
“I need to see Grayling.”  
The man nodded wordlessly and led Dylan up the stairs.

“What’s your price?”  
“Five hundred now. Five hundred after it’s done.”  
Dylan thanked goodness – or maybe the opposite – that he’d always preferred to keep cash hidden in his home. Bankers were notoriously untrustworthy in both Rich and Poor City. He handed over the money. Archie Grayling counted it greedily and asked:  
“And the name?”  
“Dominic Copeland.”


	6. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Dylan's plan is set into motion, Ben has his own demons to deal with.

CHAPTER SIX

“A well-known citizen. That will cost you a hundred more.”  
Grayling wondered for a few seconds if he had tried his luck too far. Dylan nodded wearily.  
“As you wish. Where will it take place?”  
“Do you know of the Golden Tankard, just around the corner from Decadence?”  
Dylan snorted.  
“Golden Tankard! Golden wh*rehouse, more like! But that’s the kind of place that would attract scum like him. The spoiled rich boy visiting the fleapit for a cheap thrill. One dirty little bar and one sleazy room upstairs for the lowlife to bring their clients.”  
“You’ve described it well. But it’s the kind of place Copeland would go to for the fun of it. I’ll get Sebastian to take him there tomorrow evening, just before midnight.”  
“How will you-?”  
Grayling slid a stiletto from his sleeve.  
“I’m an expert with this. It usually only takes one stab. I like to keep it clean. Wait by the river, around the corner from the back exit of the fleapit. I’ll bring the corpse to you in a sack, give you a viewing, then you give me the money and I’ll dump the corpse in the river. Do you accept?”  
Dylan smiled coldly.  
“I do.”

Ben had been brooding all day. He’d returned to his studies, as he had promised his father, but he had been distracted all day. He had dreaded confronting Dom over what he knew, but he was spared that. Dom sent a message to Dom’s personal tutor to say that he was sick Any other student would have receive a sharp note at their home, telling them to attend the next day or provide a signed note from a doctor. If the student did neither, they could consider themselves expelled. Dom’s tutor merely sighed irritably and knew he could expect Copeland back when the brat felt like returning.

Meanwhile, Ben’s efforts to try and pull himself together, rebuild his life and dedicate himself entirely to study failed. By lunchtime he was pale and the dark circles under his eyes caused one or two fellow-students to ask if he was well. He told them it was merely a headache.

As his grief over Dom grew, so did his rage against what Dylan had done to him.  
His father had known that it would break him to learn that Dominic was unfaithful, yet he had to win; he had to be proved right. Ben’s hand unconsciously fingered the fob watch that his father had bought him for the previous year’s birthday. For doing well at his studies and shunning outside distractions. For being a good boy. The words rose like bile in Ben’s throat, and he swallowed them down again.  
And formed his own plan.  
He’d return to Decadence one more time that night.

“Ben, I have business in the city. Don’t expect me back until early morning. And be packed and ready to leave this stinking hole.  
Ben almost looked through his father as if he’d barely heard the news that they were to leave the city on one of his father’s whims.  
“There’s nothing here for me any more, thanks to you” he replied dully, then almost as an afterthought:  
“And what about my studies? I was doing well here.”  
“You were, Ben. You promised me that you’d concentrate on your studies if you lost our wager. I don’t see a book in your hand so you’re scarcely studying right now.”  
“Oh, forgive me. You’ve skewered me through the heart and you expect me to just get over it-“  
“Grow up, Ben! You’re not the first person to be let down by a lover. It’s the way of the world, boy. Get used to it. Concentrate on your future. Don’t let him bring you down to this level. Look at the state of you! Now pull yourself together, let Essie cook you a meal and then read a little, and pack what you need, then sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow before we leave.”  
“As you wish. Incidentally, are we taking Essie?”  
Dylan was hurt by the lifeless tone of Ben’s voice. He wanted to hug his son but didn’t want to pamper the boy any more. He had to get over this. Copeland was going to be in the river with a few stones to help him on his way in the early hours of the morning. Best that Ben forgot all about him.  
“No. She’s become a nuisance. It’s time to let her go. Goodnight, Ben.”  
Ben merely stared again, and Dylan walked out, something akin to excitement filling his veins. Soon, Dominic, soon, he gloated.

“Are you feeling a little better, Ben?”  
Essie’s voice was full of concern. Ben smiled wearily.  
“I am, thank you, Essie.”  
“Do you know he’s sending me away? Put some money in my hand and just told me to pack and leave tomorrow? What’s got into him?”  
“It’s a long story, Essie. And I’m truly sorry he’s done this to you. You were sweet to still cook something for me.”  
Essie sighed.  
“You’re so unlike him, Ben. You’re warm and kind…. I’d have left ages ago if it hadn’t been for your kindness to me.”  
Ben’s smile was bitter.  
“Oh, I can be cruel at times, Essie. I’ve learned to be. Now, listen. I’m going to wash, and then go out. I want to see a friend. Please don’t wait up, and don’t worry – I’ll be home before my father.”  
“It’ll do you good to have some fresh air and talk to somebody your own age. I’ll keep a fire in for you.”

As the Hansom made its way along the streets, Ben smiled bitterly at his plan for revenge. He was going to Decadence, bad memories or not, he was going to drink himself senseless, and he was going to give his father’s precious watch to the biggest slut – male or female – that he could find.

“Want to do something different tonight, Dominic?”  
“Mmmm, what like?” Dom smiled at Sebastian. He still missed the gentle young man he’d falled in love with, but if he couldn’t have what he loved, he’d learn to love what he had.  
“Next door to this gorgeous establishment is a dirty little tavern where people who can afford no better go. Fancy playing at being poor for an evening?”  
“Like Marie Antoinette used to? Well… damn it, why not? It’ll be fun. And then in the morning you can share a long, long bath with me and we’ll wash off the stench of the poor!”  
Dom smiled like an excited little boy. Sebastian wanted to weep. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t his father have never met the stupid ex Doctor or whatever he was? He didn’t want to hurt Dom. He thought he might well be in love.

Two hours later, Ben sat in an alcove, sipping the one glass of wine he’d bought, and wondered what the hell he’d been thinking. He still felt anger and resentment towards his father, but the hatred was fading. Maybe the brutal way his father had exposed Dominic’s infidelity had been his clumsy way of trying to protect his son from further grief. He no longer wanted to get rid of the once-cherished watch. He wanted to leave this place, and go back to the safe monotony of his old life.  
“Do you want another of those, Sir?”  
The young woman with the ample breasts spilling from her low-cut dress smiled at him.  
“No, thank you. I want to pay and leave now. This place isn’t for me.”  
“That’s what I used to think. Before I became addicted to the bloody booze and a different man every night. Get yourself home, pretty boy, before you start craving the same thing and find yourself trapped.”  
Ben pushed some coins at her and the greedy smile on her face told him he’d overpaid.  
“Where can I find a Hansom cab?”  
“Just wait outside the Golden Tankard on the corner. Plenty there. It’s a vile night, started to p*ss it down now. Keep warm, pretty boy.”  
She kissed Ben saucily on his lips and strutted away.

“We’ve got Dominic Copeland sleeping upstairs. It’s going to be so easy.”  
The words, even though they were hissed in anger, were plain enough and suddenly Ben was alerted to them.  
He was standing by the Golden Tankard waiting for a cab, and had heard the conversation plainly through the half-open window.  
“Not this one, Dad. Please don’t kill him.”  
Ben tensed. He recognised the voice. The man he’d seen and heard Dom in bed with at Decadence. What in hell-?  
“I’ve been paid more than I’ve made in a month for this one job, Seb. I’m not losing this. Pull yourself together.”  
“Couldn’t-?” Seb almost bleated.  
“WHAT?”  
“You just have to give a corpse in a sack to that man. He’ll pay you… he’ll not check who it is. Please… can’t you find somebody else tonight and take the money anyway?”  
Ben’s body was juddering with the force of his heartbeats.  
The older man’s voice sounded almost amused.  
“Hmmm… and sooner or later somebody else will be wanting Copeland dead, and that means another chance, another fee. I like it. Very well. It’s as likely as my becoming a priest, but if a man – any man – comes here within half an hour, I’ll agree to your plan. At the end of the half hour if nobody’s arrived, I go up and knife Copeland and you shut your mouth. Bargain?”  
“Thank you, Dad! Thank you!”  
The pulse in Ben’s head was pounding as loudly as the one in his chest now. He owed Dominic Copeland nothing. To hell with it… let him die.  
Minutes ticked by; the storm began.  
And Ben faced his reality. He didn’t just still love Dom.  
He loved him enough to die for him.  
He hammered frantically at the door.  
“Please! Let me shelter here for a while!”

The door was yanked open.  
“Get inside.”  
Ben did as he was told, and as a strong arm seized him and the knife was thrust into his back, he seemed to fall into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the happiest of chapters but then this was never meant to be a romcom. Thanks to everybody who reviews and to the good friend who gives me advice for this story.


	7. Aftermath and Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate plays its final joke on Dylan and revenge turns sour. A very short chapter this time but hopefully it says everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who left comments or Kudos. The song Dom sings is an old folk song - it might be found on You Tube.

CHAPTER SEVEN  
AFTERMATH AND HOPE

Dylan waited where he’d been instructed, his whole body tensed. His mind teemed with unwelcome scenarios. What if Grayling had taken the money he’d already paid, and not done as he’d promised? Or what if Grayling and his son were actually part of a secret police movement, waiting to trap would-be murderers… or those who paid murderers so they kept their hands clean? It hit him with a jolt that he didn’t mind execution as much as living in the knowledge that the assignment hadn’t been carried out.

Then he saw the shape coming towards him. Tall, well-built, and carrying a sack with some difficulty.  
He smirked at Dylan.  
“Your corpse… now my money, please.”  
Dylan stuffed the money into Grayling’s avaricious palm.  
Grayling was about to pick up the sack and walk away when Dylan said quickly:  
“No. I’ll do it. I want to see the b*st*rd’s face.”  
“Fine.”  
Grayling turned on his heel, managing to walk calmly until he was out of sight, then he ran, dodging down different alleys, until he was able to hurry into a crowded tavern to avoid his client’s rage.

“Now!” The word beat in Dylan’s pulse. Now he’d see the piece of dirt who broke Ben’s heart.  
Then, he heard it. Coming from an open window somewhere. Copeland’s voice. His laughter and then his singing voice:

“Plaisir d’amour ne dure qu’un moment,  
Chagrin d’amour dure toute la vie…”

“Hell’s teeth!”  
Dylan knelt, with the sack across his knees, and tore it open roughly. And made a sound like a wounded animal.  
Ben lay across his father’s knees, his face ashen. Horrifically, he was still alive and, as Dylan thought, suffering.  
“Dad… I’m sorry. I couldn’t let him die.”  
Dylan had a vague idea of what Ben had done but there were more urgent issues.  
“Where does it hurt, Ben?”  
The wild thought ran though Dylan’s brain that maybe he could remember his surgical skills and save Ben. But his son gave a sad little laugh.  
“Don’t they say that wounds that don’t hurt are the ones that will kill you?”  
He suddenly clutched at Dylan’s arm.  
“Cold… so cold.”  
“Ben… God, how you must hate me.”  
Ben shook his head.  
“Wanted to… can’t.”  
Then, like a frightened child:  
“Dad… hold me.”  
Dylan hugged him and Ben quietly buried his face into his father’s shoulder and died.

A year later

Dylan walked aimlessly round the prison yard, aching in body and soul. He didn’t quite know why he’d not received the death sentence but then, the Graylings had escaped hanging as well. Archie Grayling became greedy and one of his assignments had turned sour on him. The man he’d been paid to stab to death had been one step ahead, and had not only grabbed the knife from him but had slit Grayling’s throat with it. When his father didn’t return home for two days, Sebastian fled the city and was now working in another set of dark alleys, selling himself for a pittance.

Dylan was neither disappointed nor relieved that he had been given life imprisonment. He just adapted to it. Nothing mattered without Ben. And this was his way of life now; gruelling and monotonous manual labour. He’d survive. It was more than he deserved.

Dom kept hoping he’d find Ben again but enquiries to the college just told him that, as far as they knew, Ben Chitern-Keogh had left the city with his father. Fortunately, Dom didn’t read the newspapers and so he never found out about Ben’s death. He lived too far away from the quiet grave in a churchyard just outside Poor City to learn of Ben’s fate. He just assumed that Scalpel Tongue had done a ‘Moonlight Flit’ from the City and taken his son with him.

The loneliness and night fears began to plague Dom again. He’d occasionally take a lover but they all seemed mediocre after Ben or even Sebastian. But when the young man had left, Dom was alone in the barely-lit room and facing childhood demons once more.

Then one night, as he tossed and turned, he felt a presence in the room. Yet he didn’t feel the terror that such a thought should have given him. He felt, strangely, calm and protected. And when he felt something he could only describe as a faint kiss on his forehead, he wasn’t afraid. The presence stayed with him all night, then as dawn broke, he felt another kiss, then a soft rush of breeze like somebody leaving a room. Slowly, his fear and misery left him. And the presence was there the next night. And the next. Until the day that Dom knew he’d not be afraid in the night again. The presence left, quietly, after one last comforting kiss, going soundlessly into the universe to find peace.  
From then on, Dom slept at night.


End file.
